


bottom shelf erotica

by avoidfilledwithcelluloid



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Body insecurity, Crying, Death Note Kink Meme, Dom/sub, Double Penetration in One Hole, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Humiliation, M/M, Phone Sex, Size Kink, Toys, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2020-11-24 01:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidfilledwithcelluloid/pseuds/avoidfilledwithcelluloid
Summary: these are my kink meme fills, since it seems like everyone sort of...went to sleep on that already. these are quick, sexy, but not developed; these are stained thin paperbacks you've rummaged for in the "adult" section of the bookstore; these are...bottom shelf erotica.(2/14: happy valentines day; there's a new fic added with a fun blowjob.)





	1. consensual verbal humiliation (light/oc)

**Author's Note:**

> hey. you probably knew i wrote these ones. i hope the kinkmeme lives again but, in the meantime, you guys can read these here i suppose. remember to leave a nice comment if you enjoyed the fic. 
> 
> original prompt: "I want Light to be verbally degraded during sex and I want him to hate how much he loves it. I don't really care who he's paired with."

Light rubbed his thumb over the card and shivered at the gold raised font. A phone number, recommended to him by an embarrassed but concerned Matsuda, caressed him back; it opened its arms and welcomed him to try.  
  
“I’ve used it a few times,” Matsuda had said, sheepish flush on his cheeks. “Maybe it’ll help you relax, if Misa can’t.”  
  
He folded his legs to his chest—curled, as it were, into a crouch on his study’s leather wingback—and flicked the card between his index and middle fingers. A wine glass in his other hand sweated on Light’s palm; the blood hued Burgundy bit his tongue when he sipped it.  
  
_Fantasies Come Alive_, the card whispered in gold. _Give Us A Ring and Find Pleasure._  
  
He set his wine on a side table, grasping his phone after dropping the card onto his wallet, where it lay near the table’s lamp. The light was an odd metal sculpture—a twisted base shaped like an abstract body in pain—lifted from L’s financial ejaculation of a building. Wetting his lips with a swipe of his tongue, Light tried not to look too long at the lamp, yet even the flash of it as he glanced away gave his body a shock, his nipples hardening beneath his thin pullover. He typed in the phone number and pressed the receiver to his ear with thousands of outcomes laid out before him.  
  
“Hey handsome,” a liquid voice answered on the second ring—bright and feminine in a way that made Light jerk away. “You alone?”  
  
“How much per minute?”  
  
Her answer was given in the same honeyed voice, though a note of annoyance embittered the tone. Light nodded and requested to be given a different phone operator.  
  
“Right, right,” the voice said. “These minutes are charged too, by the way.”  
  
“I’d like to speak to a man,” Light said. “Whoever is best with…cruelty.”  
  
“I’ll send you along.”  
  
Muzac piped through the phone as a minute passed by, Light worrying his lip and playing with his pants button. How soon would be appropriate to open himself—touch himself? Even when looking at visual pornography, Light never quite knew the right timing for masturbation. He did better with an audience; looking at the empty ceiling corners, he knew he didn’t have one. Until a soft click sounded through the phone and a deep voice spoke.  
  
“Hello,” the voice said. “I’m Reo. How are you feeling?”  
  
Velvet poured through the phone and into Light’s ear, coaxing his thoughts toward Reo’s voice and burning in odd comfort. In a way, the melodic nature of the voice was uncommonly buoyant, a contrast to what Light imagined for fantasy lovers; in other ways, the slip of each word into each other was familiar—melted as a serpent over a tree branch.  
  
“Did the woman tell you what I wanted?” Light tried to slow his voice, but rushed at the last word. _Wanted._ Oh, he hated wanting. “I don’t call many sex lines, so I want to make sure I get what I need.” Ah yes. _Need._ A better word indeed.  
  
Reo’s laugh was lifted and patronizing. “Are you begging already?”  
  
“I’m not begging.”  
  
“You want me to be cruel, huh?” Reo huffed into the phone and Light near felt the hot breathy wave. “Only someone who begs like a pet wants someone to be cruel to them. Are you a pet, hm? A fuck-pet who wants a master to split him open to get a better target to hurt him?”  
  
Fingers danced down Light’s zipper; his own cock weighed in his hand like a hammer’s handle. “You didn’t even ask my name,” Light said—a comment shot out in reactive defense. “Not so good at pleasing your customers.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t think you want to be pleased,” Reo said. “Whatever your name is, I think fuck-pet suits you better. Everyone deserves a name that suits them.” A warm, muffled crinkle relayed the other man settling into comfort as Light swiped pre-cum from his tip, slicking his first stroke. “How desperate a little thing you must be, to stoop low enough to ask for your degradation.”  
  
“I—,” Light started but Reo clicked his tongue, cutting off his response.  
  
“You don’t speak when I’m talking.” The order rolled over Light in an uncomfortable vice and tightened his mouth closed, as well as bringing him from half to full hardness. “If I were there, I’d find a good use for your mouth, something a fuck-pet would be whining for. How well do you suck cock, fuck-pet?”  
  
Eyes squeezed shut, Light breathed out through his nose. “I don’t know,” he grit out. “I’ve never—I’ve never sucked anyone’s cock.”  
  
“Oh, that means you’ll be slobbering for it,” Reo said. “Desperate to taste me deep in your hungry mouth, cramming your begging back down your throat. I’d bet before I even took it out, you’d be thrusting on my leg, isn’t that right? Like a horny, ungrateful fuck-pet who wants more than his master gives him.”  
  
A bent-wire hum was all Light could manage; wretched sparks flickered through his stomach the more his mind conjured the images Reo said: his perfect body on its knees before a faceless commanding presence, wanton in pursuit of pleasure. The non-response fueled Reo as he kept on in his description.  
  
“You’re not good enough for me to give you this cock, I think,” he said. “I don’t know if you deserve it.”  
  
“Ah,” Light gasped. “No. I’m good. I deserve it.”  
  
“Are you? You know what you sound like? A little slut, saying whatever he can to get fucked and put in his place. Are you a little slut?”  
  
Building pressure behind Light’s eyes wavered between a headache and his orgasm. “Please,” he said. “Reo. Let me.”  
  
“Let you what? Suck my cock? Come?” Fractured in hiccupped cruelty, Reo’s laugh broke over the phone and sent shivers across Light’s skin. All his body was tight and a prick away from exploding.  
  
“I want to come,” Light said. “Let me come.”  
  
“You can come when you tell me what you are,” Reo said. “Tell me you’re a slutty little fuck-pet. What a desperate and needy slut you are.”  
  
Unbidden, tears collected at Light’s eyes and tinted his cheeks in slow, small tracks. His cock was hard, throbbing and ready for release, but his body tilted on Reo’s voice. Dropping his head back, Light heaved and pumped his hand faster on himself.  
  
“I’m a s-slutty little fuck-pet,” he whined. “I’m a needy, needy and desperate slut and I want to come, please! Please let me come.”  
  
“Go ahead.” Reo’s voice rippled with condescension; his words less order than a pitying allowance. “Come on yourself.”  
  
The headache burst behind Light’s eyes and brought stars to them; orgasm laid him shaking, flat into his chair as he muttered jerky breaths and sobs to a paid stranger. His pleasure sapped from his limbs in increments until he was flaccid in every corner of the house of his body. Reo coughed in the silence that followed and asked if Light had his credit card on hand.  
  
“Yeah.” Light reached to grab his wallet where it lay, right below the lamp. Shiny metal reminders gazed at his cum-sticky hand. “Reo. Such an interesting name. Is there a special kanji for it, by the way?”


	2. an ode to assholes (L/Light)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: "L can't stop obsessing how beautiful Light's butthole is, there's no comparison to it. From its rosy pink hue, its scent and taste, how it always remains pleasingly tight no matter what he shoves in."

Does he dream of anything? He considered the question—posed by countless parties before Light asked him in a ponderous, sleep-addled voice more apt for his age than any other sound he made.  
  
“I dream,” L said, “about winning.”  
  
Untrue, but he liked to lie when Light asked easy questions; to be a liar when it was easier to be true made the harder lies a more natural dance to perform. He was sure Light knew that and used the same method himself. But inside, L spoke what he dreamed of into the walls of his mind’s home; wood soaked in descriptions of Light’s perfect little asshole.  
  
Maybe it wasn’t a lie to say he dreamed of winning—fucking the warm pink pucker and having it shudder around his cock felt as much like winning as a scoreboard tipped in his favor. Stubborn and tight muscle coaxed into yielding, finally, to his fingers’ explorations and moans cantering from Light as he was penetrated by flesh, by plastic, in various tableaux of pleasure. Victory was the shade of these situations; the color of Light’s little rosebud stretched around a vibrator, then grasping L’s cock with equal tightness. Championing his dreams was that raw pink fever hidden until L could pull Light apart and bring it into view: a truth obvious enough, L imagined, for Light to know the answer behind any lie.  
  
And right now, Light laid out over their shared bed without clothes and golden skin pricked by goose-pimples. He’d awakened from sleep to find L still working and wheedled his nudity and need for pleasure as demands for L’s attention. Night air from an open window twined with air-conditioning to make the room cold: opposition to heat their bodies made together. L draped hands and body over him and licked his way toward a dragon’s satisfaction at the treasure chained to him. Wriggles when he kissed the give at Light’s side secreted ticklishness exploited by L’s teeth scraping his kiss marks again.  
  
“I dream about leaving here.” Light was muffled in his pillow, his back arched and pressing his mouth to slurring. “No handcuffs. Just me in the sun again.”  
  
“Where am I?” L laved his tongue into a back dimple. “Stuck inside?”  
  
“You’re in different dreams. Wetter ones.” Eyes flickered to meet L’s and a smile grew over Light’s mouth. “You’re hungrier in dreams, than you are now.”  
  
Words floated up and away from his attention as he massaged Light’s small bottom—split the two cheeks with a single push. Their parting curtain-called the main event—a tiny flexing bud. L stroked a finger over it and widened his eyes when the muscle shifted, twitching from his touch. Leaning closer, his breath swelled and spread across peach fuzz. How wonderful to see his love again, quivering and reactive as he dipped his tongue onto the rosy clutch of Light’s asshole.  
  
“Do you want to know how you taste?”  
  
“My asshole? I can’t imagine you’d say a compliment.”  
  
“Earthy.” L lapped the pucker again, spit dripping into a perverse shine coat. It glowed by the single lamp light like a gilded charm. “Salty. A little sweet.”  
  
“Sweet?” A shiver vibrated through Light when he spoke, originated from L’s tongue penetrating him deeper than a lick. “H-how does it taste sweet?”  
  
“A little of me still inside you,” L mumbled. “Didn’t clean enough this morning, did you?”  
  
Light moaned as L dove into his asshole with ravenous indulgence—slick and wet, mindless yet calculated—until he felt the other man’s muscles grow loose beneath his palms. He found a melting point for Light in pleasure, where well-sculpted aesthetic became putty just by carnal happiness. A final pass across the pucker left it gleaming and squeezing; it wouldn’t be unfair, L suspected, to say it wanted more.  
  
“Do you know what I dream of, really?” L kept his thumbs dug into Light’s bottom and watched cool air dry his spit. He pressed down hard, as the longer he held those cheeks apart the more Light squirmed and whined. “Ask me again.”  
  
“What do you dream about?” Light sighed, hips rocking in shallow thrusts, which tightened and released his asshole in rhythmic beats. “Not just winning, hm?”  
  
“I dream about having you naked, all the time,” L said. “Your body without a stich on it no matter where you are. Politeness might drive you to cover up, but I won’t let you.”  
  
Softly, Light gasped but didn’t interrupt; his back was taut when L skimmed several small kisses over it.  
  
“I dream about you nude and bent before me, so I can see this perfect asshole whenever I want. Kiss it and eat it out mid-day until you’re wailing for more. I dream of stuffing a plug inside you for the day, letting it vibrate and relax your bottom so when I remove it, your asshole welcomes my tongue like a treasured guest.”  
  
“I dreamed of that too.” Light whispered, his voice no more than wind prickling L’s hair. “I dreamed you never let me go, and stripped me to my bare skin. I was exposed to everyone, like a pervert, but—you were the only one who really saw me.”  
  
L reached Light’s back dimples again and ducked lower, kissing his asshole and earning a gasp. “Am I hungry enough for your dreams?” He squeezed until the flesh in his hands turned red. “Do I match what your sleep brought you?”  
  
Light didn’t answer; his noises were sobs and his hips bucked toward L’s mouth—a response interpretable; twistable; and eager to be devoured.


	3. live show (Light/OCs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: "On a weekend alone Light hires 2 escorts to put on a show for L's surveillance cameras"

Light admits to himself: He is obsessed with bridges. Consider his body as it appears on camera (or what he imagines a camera view to be—hazed in bouncing from his room to L’s screen) and marvel at the perfect arch of his back, his ass connected to one man’s hands and cock while his face remains cradled and swollen with another man’s limbs. Cock is heavy on this physical bridge and Light holds it between his lips, inside his asshole, clenched tight and hungry for more. A tear drips off one cheek; what a show for the peanut gallery.  
  
(Or does L count for peanuts? How much has he paid to see a beautiful boy get rammed on either end? More than just circus fodder shell-outs, Light’s sure…)  
  
Oh, the stretch of his mouth hurts. Above him is a sculpted vision whose nose points down along with his dark green eyes shot straight through Light’s watering ones. He doesn’t know what’s behind him beyond the low thump of hips slapping onto his bottom as a cock widens him. Light is so fat with other people’s pleasure; isn’t it time he got his own? Growling, he wriggles between the men with his hardened erection jostled—squeezed by a cock ring paid for with the same allowance he gave the sex workers fucking him now—and they both chuckle.  
  
“Listen to the little tiger.” The man behind him—Haru, kanji for eternal treasure—speaks low. “He wants something.”  
  
“Speak up.” The man at his front—Itsuki, magnificent mountain—grasps Light by the chin, shakes it and slides his cock further inside a soft mouth. “Can’t hear you. What do you want, baby?”  
  
His heart aches. Does L hear their pitying cruelty? Does he want to reach through, bat them away and do with Light what he wishes? Eyes closed, Light imagines a more calculated touch and tone: someone who wants him as he truly is; not a slut, not weak to sex, but pleasure-driven none the less. Hungry to be held. A hard spank on his bottom shoots Light’s eyes open and Haru speaks into his ear in a damp whisper.  
  
“Keep those pretty eyes open,” he says. “We want you with us, little tiger, not dreaming.”  
  
Solid flesh slides from his mouth and leaves Light with a spit bridge from tongue to cock-tip. Gasps rain out beside heavy coughing—breathing anything but a sex organ is something he relearns after a moment. Itsuki has a mean smile as he presses his thumb to Light’s nose and bends the tip up until he snorts and snuffs. “Little pig, I think,” he tells Haru. “Sniffing for cock.”  
  
Light swipes an arm out that catches Itsuki by the leg and knocks him and his thumb away. Laughter doubles Itsuki over, and Light puts a hand between his legs, fingers on the plastic ring, before those are wrestled away. Haru’s hands are sweat-sticky as he grips a wrist in one, Light’s hip in the other.  
  
“Say what you want,” Haru coaxes, rotating his cock in the clutch of Light’s ass so it grinds his prostate into stars of arousal. “Tell us so we can make you feel good.”  
  
“Touch me,” Light says. “I want my cock touched.”  
  
“Is that all?” Itsuki grasps him by the shaft, teasing before he plucks off the cock ring. “You’re not the modest type, are you? Tell us everything you want.”  
  
Light doesn’t close his eyes, but rolls them to a corner of the ceiling where he knows a camera peers at him: invisible as heaven watching humans kill each other. A thumb skids over his cock tip and stuns a groan from Light. Drool pricks his lip corner. He stares a dagger at heaven, while Itsuki licks his nipple and bites the nub.  
  
“I want both of you,” Light says, “to be inside me.”

* * *

L opens his eyes, and sees the screen glazed by sleep-dazed red. He must've fallen asleep around the fifteen minute mark of Light's new little weekend threesome show. Static clings to the monitor corners but not onto the actual picture—clear, crisp, and crying fat tears over his rose-gold cheeks—searing into dark retinas until Light’s body is the shape of all L’s vision. Between two other men, arms pressed to one’s shoulders while his head dipped toward the other’s patient lips buried on his scalp, Light glows in his writhing, which is so violent it often slips a second-long glance at the two cocks pumping inside. Hands—strangers hands, someone L hasn’t seen before and is almost sure Light’s never met previous to tonight—clutch hips and mold Light into a rhythmic fuck, bucking and rocking as though he were made to do it.  
  
Tender-fingered, L rummages onto the table at his chair’s side and grasps a handful of chocolate hard candies. Red pops into his mouth and shatters under his molars as another moan threads through his microphone. These pipe low at first, from the back of Light’s throat, before clawing their way to a higher pitch. He can see why one of them—Haru, whose work record flickers on L’s other screen, along with his partner at Light’s front, Itsuki—keeps calling the Yagami boy “little tiger.” All his pleasure sounds near bestial, yet rounded in their violence like Light’s claws haven’t grown full enough yet for him to know his limits.  
  
Itsuki, grinning in his small pixelated expression, tugs Light’s nipple and tweaks it as he speaks. “How does this feel?” He asks. “Hurt too much, little tiger? Or do you enjoy that?”  
  
“Ahh.” Light let out an unsteady moan, mostly breath and hardly words. “Oh, oh. It’s—”  
  
“Shh.” From behind, Haru wraps a hand around Light’s face so two fingers pop right into his open, wanting mouth—whimpers muffle through the digits. “You can tell he likes it. Feel how his hole keeps tightening on you and me? He wants to keep us inside, stay as full as he can.” A low groan leaves Haru and L shoots his eyes to Light’s snug pink mouth suckling on the fingers gagging him. Clicks with every wet glide in and out—mouth and entrance—pound from the speakers.  
  
Another candy shell shatters under L’s teeth; he tastes bitter chocolate and stinging sweet shards, fingers brushing his own lower lip. When he pushes the skin burns under pressure and he drops his hand, thumb curious over a copper pants’ button. Denim, a glass screen, and several hundred yards separate him and his desire—or is he closer? Sixty-four cameras spy down on Light stretched and tilted through two sets of limbs made of firm grips and steady muscle for his body to weather their storm against.  
  
L closes his eyes, pops his jean button open, and—in his mind palace, the screen still blaring out the far-off threesome, Light looks into the camera and smiles for L through another man’s fingers. He reaches back and yanks Haru’s hair until his mouth is freed from its fleshy gag. Spit trails from fingers and over his mouth until it’s a pervert’s rose—swollen, shining, and loose to say anything. Light tilts his head and breathes heavy.  
  
“You want to touch me, huh?” He says to L, whose cock meets his encircling hand more eager from Light’s aromatic voice—developed flavor dripping from each syllable. “Have me like this?” With his hips, Light grinds onto both cocks and his next words tumble from a long, pleasured growl. “Ahhhh, mm. Don’t you want to make me needy like this, L? Take me from these men and show me how good you can give it to me?”  
  
Slicked by his own pre-cum, L works his erection to the echo of Light through his mind palace—a fantasy of a fantasy, televised to an audience of one—and his eyes crack open only when a yelp drills through palace walls. On the real screen, red fever touches Light’s cheeks as Itsuki clasps his hard-on and strokes him slow, a hair out of step with his and Haru’s thrusts. Babbles of desperation tip out Light’s demand for orgasm and each is met with a shared chuckle by Haru and Itsuki, who don’t speed their movements for him.  
  
“I’m going to come,” Light says. His hand wavers right above Itsuki’s neck, L reading hesitation to grab and pull hair. “Let me come, I want—I want to come now.”  
  
“Why don’t you ask?” Haru smirks and holds Light’s right thigh to the side, his foot aloft and muscle leaping under the strain. “Orgasm needs to be asked for.”  
  
“He’s right,” Itsuki nods. “Demand all you like. You get to come when you ask.”  
  
Slower and slower, L blinks, even as his hand moves faster on his cock and sparks fly into fire in his belly. In every closed lid second, the Light in his mind comes back into existence in the same position as the one on the real screen, except his gaze bores a yearning hole in L’s psyche.  
  
“Would you make me ask?” Light asks in L’s mind palace. “Are you going to make me ask you, L? Or will you just give me what I want?”  
  
Even after he bursts—orgasm dribbling cum over his already candy-stained fingers—and watches Light squirm between asking and ordering, L doesn’t know his answer. Tears flutter from sixty-four angles over sixty-four versions of Light as he breaks into pieces and shouts hungrily.  
  
“Please! Can I come? Please, I want to come, I deserve it. Please, may I come?”  
  
L shuts his eyes; the sound is nails on a chalkboard. He lets out a breath and his throat constricts around his answer.  
  
“No,” L says to Light on screen, to Light smiling through fantasy. “You’ll have to beg for what you want.”  
  
“Come for us, little tiger,” Haru whispers, barely audible on the video. “Show us how much you like having two cocks in you. How much your body craves coming apart at the seams.”  
  
Though he’s tempted, L doesn’t open his eyes to see what image accompanies the thunderous climactic scream Light lets out. Some mysteries he wants to hold onto: flesh and blood, only solved by his own hand and Light, grinning, crying, or otherwise, with ravenous demands on his mouth for L—and L alone.


	4. masturbation to pre-recorded sex (L/Light)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: "l makes light touch himself while watching a video of l fucking light, praise/degradation kink, take it as far as u want!!! Bottom,sub!light pls~~"

His thigh jumps under L’s hand, which squeezes each finger—one after the other—into his skin until it turns bright white. Light shuts his eyes, his mouth dropped open and soaked by his tongue gone heavier with each thrust of L deeper inside him.  
  
“Ahh,” Light moans. “Ooh. L, that’s so good.”  
  
“Eyes open, mon beau,” L says. “I want you to see the show.”  
  
Lashes flutter like curtains parting until Light stares at his reflection; not into a mirror, but the screen where a video plays. He’s got a leading part in the scene, on his hands and knees, and his hair dark with the same sweat on his neck now. L bucks another notch into him, hips warm in their rhythmic pump of cock into his ass. Light’s vision falters a moment from the screen downward to his own cock, erect and bobbing against his stomach. Not been touched since L started pounding him in full, his dick strains for just that inch more to send him over the edge; as is, Light teeters just at pleasure’s gate with every slam against his prostate sparking stars through him.  
  
“Hm.” He bites his lip, the taste sweat-salty. “I’m going t-to come. You’re going to make me come.”  
  
“Look at yourself.” L catches Light by the chin and jerks his eyes back to the screen. With the sound off, all he knows is what he sees: his body being fucked until his arms have given out, bent into an angle where his bottom presses perfectly into the fuzzy figure of L, making his same video debut. “Do you remember this time? Can you recall it?”  
  
“N-no.” Light licks his lips, each movement rubbing his jaw into L’s firm grip. Another wave of arousal pulls over him as his leg, unsupported by a hand, twitches in soreness. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”  
  
“No, no. Don’t be sorry, mon petit. I wouldn’t expect you to remember, and I’m actually glad you don’t.” L kisses the nape of his neck, needle-prick delight running over Light’s skin. “You don’t remember because the deal I made worked. But I wanted to make sure we had this made, so the memory wouldn’t fade.”  
  
“Ah!” Light gasps as L wrests his hand from his face and drops to grab Light’s leg again, hefting it higher and angling another rough thrust. Slick, pulsing cock rubs on his inner walls, teasing at his prostate before grinding into it. “Oh! Ooooh fuck.” Lip caught between his teeth, Light squeezes his eyes shut with tears gathering at the corners. “L, p-please, touch my cock. Let me come.”  
  
“Eyes open.” L scolds him and Light’s eyes shoot wide open as a firm hand wraps around his cock, his leg falling limp and spayed out. “This was the first time you submitted to me, after I solved the puzzle you made. It was a good puzzle—the kind people write books about—but it wasn’t perfect.” With his hand moving in long strokes, L’s motions match his voice’s cadence. “Mon petit. Mon beau. My little killer fox. This is a recording of you turning yourself over to me, in body and mind.” His rhythm, both in hips and hand, stop and Light cries out, tears now trickling over his cheeks. “Actually, why don’t we listen?”  
  
L flicks his hand and without visible tools, turns on the audio. Blasted through speakers is Light’s ghost—moans and shrieks from a life previous, captured and ricocheting off the study walls. It bounces in his head like a tennis ball and pushes his vision from the screen to all his surroundings. The study of the big house he and L shared somewhere in North England—yes? Wasn’t it?—with shelves of books, hooks on which Light’s coat, his scarf, his leather collar hung, work from L’s cases and a soft pillow for Light to kneel on beside the desk, dressed in nothing and eager for L’s touch. All the pieces of a home he knew unlike the one on screen.  
  
“Yes!” His on-screen ghost shouts, drawing Light’s attention back to where an on-screen L whispers into mirror Light’s ear. “Oh! Oh! L, please! You’re teasing me!”  
  
“You don’t get to come,” L drones, his voice a melodious monotone. “Not until you confess. Not until you do what you need to.”  
  
“Mm.” Mirror Light stretches out, cat-like, and attempts to nestle his bottom further down on mirror L’s cock. He receives a spank for his trouble and yelps. “Ah! I c-can’t. I can’t do that, please.”  
  
“An eye for an eye.” Mirror L coaxes in the same gentle tone that current L murmurs with on Light’s back.  
  
“A life for a life,” L says, just as his counterpart on screen does. The phrase tingles in Light’s spine as L resumes thrusting and a blinding explosion rockets through his belly and all Light’s limbs.  
  
“Ah! Ahhhh!” Mirror Light cries in competition with Light’s own extending wails. “I submit! Yes, okay! I submit to you. I’m yours. I’m yours, L. You caught me, I’m Kira, and you can…keep me. Please, please. Can I come? Can I come now?”  
  
Sobs fall from Light as L pounds into him, while on-screen Light is pulled back and fucked rougher. Even in the black-and-white graphics, passion near blurs his celluloid reflection with the same pink glow blushing Light’s cheeks. Both of them suffer the fervent plunder of L driving into them, but only on-screen is L speaking while in the study, L watches along with Light.  
  
“Reach down and touch yourself,” L orders. “Tease your little cock for me.”  
  
Light scrambles to obey. He holds himself in rapturous delight and strokes the full length with desperate need. Whines grow tighter in his throat the more he jerks and become shrieks as L’s thrusts quicken.  
  
“Good boy,” Mirror L says. “That’s it. I’m going to treat you so good, mon petit, like you need to be treated. I’ll make sure you’re pampered as long as you do what you’re told. You’ll be obedient, and you’ll receive as much pleasure as your body can handle. Perhaps more.” A kiss—captured in only a camera’s brief flicker—presses to mirror Light’s cheek. “Now come for your master. Come for me.”  
  
“Do you remember that part?” L takes hold of Light and fucks him in fierce assault as an orgasm wells in his body, held back by a dominating thrum to L’s voice. He can’t reach the tall height of pleasure until his master’s hand pulls him to it. “Remember who you belong to? Ton loup? Ton bien-aimé? Ton homme?”  
  
“Ha-a,” Light gasps, his heart threaded through his voice. “Yes. Yes, Master. I belong to you. My wolf—m-my beloved. My man. P-please can I come?”  
  
“Yes.” L wraps his hand around Light’s hand and cock and they stroke him together until Light comes screaming—pleasure and cum erupting from the caverns of Light’s body by his master’s command. “Come for me, Light. Come for Master.”  
  
In the final hazy rushes of passion, Light hears the recording spin into words he doesn’t understand; things he can’t recall ever saying. When he tries to look, his vision is too blurry—from tears and excitement—to see the picture. He just hears himself and L speak in low, wounded voices.  
  
“I’m yours,” Mirror Light mumbles, his voice numbed from orgasm. “I’m not Kira, anymore. I’m just your submissive.” A soft chuckle marks disbelief. “What a fall from grace.”  
  
“Hush.” Mirror L chastises. “You’re still Kira as of now, but tomorrow, you won’t be. We’ll give back the notebook and erase your memories of being a god, so you’ll be happy.”  
  
Light flutters his lashes as L lowers him into an easy seat across his lap. His thighs ache from being held up, but nimble fingers massage them in talented, soothing circles as L meets his gaze. A smile, not small and unclear as the one on-screen but wide and tender, pulls his thin lips in a way that compels Light to kiss him.  
  
“Are you happy?” L asks into the kiss.  
  
“Yes, Master,” Light answers. “Never happier.”


	5. penis insecurity (l/light)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is based on a kinkmeme fill, but i went really far off the actual prompt so i don't even think i can include it. basically, L is insecure about his penis and Light is very horny for that same penis. it's not great, but it is smutty and i'm sick of looking at it. happy valentines day. leave comments. thank you!

Off-duty is a strange way to refer to someone whose job is, as much as Light can tell, the whole of his identity, but after the non-suspected taskforce members leave, L’s demeanor does…shift. Not so much in personality, of course, the detective remains crooked in both figure and attitude while citing percentages without continuity – no, L dresses differently when it’s only himself and Light within those dedication-constructed walls.

(Dedication, or maybe spite actually; Light finds L spends money the same way people make vows of silence – to prove personal [stupid] points.)

Tonight finds them both lounging on their shared room’s couch, several hours after everyone departed for their own warm homes. Light flicks through television channels, handcuff jingling on his wrist with every press. Next to him, L sits without his legs tucked to his chest; instead, they’re sprawled apart and stretched to take up a good deal more space than Light’s crossed legs do. Worn charcoal sweatpants prove tight over L’s crotch, and Light tries not to stare. It’s only that, well, tightness gives way to a detailed knowledge of what L carries in that particular spot.

The detective leans forward to snatch an almond cookie, his gaze catching Light in the act of crotch observation. Light jerks his eyes back to the TV, but it’s too late.

“Are you alright?” L speaks in a loping monotone—less than apathetic toward Light’s response. “Perhaps you’re still nervous about the investigation.”

“I’m not,” Light insists. “I just wanted to see if you liked this show.” He pauses his channel-flipping on a dating game competition, which earns him a raised eyebrow from L. “I guess it’s not really your speed. Or mine, to be truthful.”

“Please,” L says. “Be as truthful as you can, Light.”

An eye-roll couldn’t convey the sheer volume of annoyance coursing through Light’s veins. “Do you want me to tell the truth?” He tosses the remote between L’s legs and gestures to the shadowed penis imprint. “I can see your entire dick outline. That’s what I’m nervous about.”

For a moment, silence reigns between them as L stares wide-eyed at his own crotch and shuffles his legs together. Faint crimson burns at his cheeks and L feigns a cough, one hand covering his mouth and the other fidgeting in his lap. Light smirks, but the victory is short-lived. Polite and sympathetic embarrassment takes its place.

“Sorry.” Light folds his arms over his chest and stares at his socked feet. “That was uncalled for.”

“No. It was accurate. I shouldn’t have worn these sweats. I know they have a tendency to show more than I’d like.”

“It’s okay, really.” Light peppers calculated enthusiasm in his voice to counter the tremulous tone of L’s. “I just got distracted. You’ve got a very nice penis, I’m sure.”

Not that Light hasn’t gotten a glimpse or two, during showers, but he doesn’t stare if he can help it. While his sense of privacy isn’t threatened by nudity—a few father and son trips to bathhouses proved powerful bonding experiences, and he saw more than a few exposed dicks there—he’s less sure of L’s own policies. All he knows is how … pink L’s penis is. The dimensions, he doesn’t quite care about or know—but the color is endearing.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” L munches on his cookie, legs folding back up to his chest and eyes trained on a worried couple on screen. “Have we got any more of these cookies? I’d like more cookies.”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you, if that’s something you’re sensitive about,” Light says. “But maybe you should wear pants that don’t bring attention to it.”

A long sigh escapes L, crumbs decorating his lips before he licks them away. His tongue is a darker pink than Light remembers of his penis.

“You’re a very private person, aren’t you?” L asks.

“No more private than you.” Light says. “What do you mean?”

Rolling his finger into his lower lip, L tilts his gaze to Light and the full brunt of his dark eyes pins Light to his seat. “A private person knows the value of a kept-secret,” L says, “since they have many of their own. Whether you’re Kira or not, I don’t doubt you have enough of your own to know a secret’s worth is in its silence, yes?”

Light shuffles his arms tighter to his chest; his breathing is hot in his throat.

“I suppose so,” he says. “Although I don’t know why that’s something you’re asking about.”

“What I’m going to tell you is something private, and I want to know you will be careful with this private information,” L says. “And before you worry this is a test, please know I’m only sharing this particular secret with you as an act of convenience so we don’t have this conversation again.”

Although he didn’t believe whatever was happening _wasn’t _a test, Light still clawed his knees before nodding to let L continue. Whatever came next needed to be the best secret ever.

“I’m quite ashamed of it but,” L turns his head downward. “But I have an enormous penis.”

“Enormous?” Light sits up straighter and twists until his torso faces L. Without thinking to, he glances down at the man’s lap, which is hidden by his bent knees. “How do you classify enormous?”

“Nine inches,” L says. “At least, last time I was measured, my penis was nine inches.”

A soft, stunned inhale precedes a quick look away as Light gathers himself. He flicks his hand to his forehead, covering his wide eyes, and tries not have a reaction. Part of him wants to laugh – what? nine inches? absurd! – and another part wants to turn away quietly while pretending to have hearing loss. Instead, he composes himself and meets L’s beseeching gaze.

“Soft or hard?” Light asks.

“Oh.” L taps his lip. “I believe I was flaccid during the measuring.”

“Ah. How interesting.” Light nods and shuffles himself back toward the TV. “So, do you want to watch the dating show?”

“No. Change the channel.”

Later, tucked into bed next to L, whose work had hardly stopped for him to change into a matching pajama set, Light gnaws on his index finger. His thoughts aren’t impure, but he can’t quit conjuring a fanaticized version of L’s cock. Big and pink: Those are the only details he knows. Is it hairy as well? He closes his eyes and imagines black curls grown thick around the root of a peachy cock. His body throbs; even just imagination has Light aroused.

So maybe his thoughts are impure. He glances at L, clicking away at his laptop, and trails his eyes down to his pajama pant’s shadows. Underneath the blue fabric is a secret and Light wants it. He wants to hold the secret in his mouth, savor the mystery on his tongue: suck that stupid long cock. A low cough drags his attention to L and a smile, nervous but amused.

“Can’t you sleep?” L asks.

“I’m a little worked up.” Light twisted his fingers together. “Shouldn’t have watched TV so late, huh?”

“You’ve had a lot of excitement. Try to rest.”

“Can I see it?” Light’s voice surprises himself, and L jumps at it as well. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask. It’s rude.”

“Yes. Well.” L inhales and sets his laptop aside. “I don’t mind Light’s rudeness.”

“You don’t?”

“How do I say this?” Thin, pale fingers loosened his pajama’s waistband as L pushed them down, his hipbones jutting out. “When you’re rude, it reminds me you’re a person.”

His hands are graceful and ghost over himself. Light covets them, wants them as much as he wants to see, and pushes closer. He exhales and his breath catches as the first hint of pink, fleshy shaft comes into view. Dark curls surround it – the entire cock revealed, soft and leaning on L’s thigh.

“Oh,” Light says. “Oh. Ryuzaki.”

“I know. A bit grotesque.” L touches his tip gingerly with a disquieted expression. “You can look away, if you like.”

Closing his eyes, Light taps his tongue to the dry roof of his mouth. After a moment, he flutters his eyes open and focuses on what’s before him. “I can’t look away,” he breathed. “It’s so beautiful.”

Red breaks over L’s expression, and his hands fall away from himself. “What?” L widens his eyes. “You like it?”

Light pauses. Does he like it – L’s thick cock, uncut and hardening under his own heavy gaze – as much as the drool collecting in his mouth suggests? To know himself as a man entranced by a dick is simple, an uncomplicated concept – it is the truth. He flicks his gaze to meet L’s and reaches to brush a finger over his cock.

“Can I suck it?” Light speaks in a low, reverent tone. “Please. I’d like to suck your cock.”

“You don’t have to.” Looking away, the flush on L’s face takes on more embarrassed tones. “It’s disgusting. There’s no need to pretend my monstrous penis is worth touching.”

“But,” Light sighs. “I love how big it is.” He touches L by the knee and coaxes his legs apart, settling between them and letting his mouth hover just above the cock. As he breathes, the velvet pink shaft twitches. “Never thought someone could have such a perfect cock.”

“Light.”

“Please, Ryuzaki.” Light licks his palm before wrapping it around L’s shaft. He pumps in gentle moves, savoring the weight in his hand. Arousal builds in his own core with his tongue heavy from the hunger to give his mouth to L. “Let me taste it. I want to taste your thick cock so bad.”

“I don’t want you to pity me,” L said. “It’s too big.” He sweeps a hand through Light’s hair but doesn’t chase the other man away. “There’s been plenty before you who told me it ruined them.”

“Of course they said that.” Light rolls his head into L’s frantic petting, which turns to a firm hand holding him by the jaw. L presses his thumb into Light’s chin and it hurts, indelible and steading.

“Your cock is huge, Ryuzaki,” Light murmurs. “Perfect and thick. I’ve never seen another cock as beautiful as this one. Anyone who’s had it before was probably ruined from ever loving a cock as much as this one.” He dips his head down, kissing L by the thumb for taking it between his teeth. “Ruin me with it, please. I want to get wrecked by your perfect, thick cock.”

Released from L’s mouth is a wounded moan – a deer caught by an arrow from the bow of Light’s lips. Buoyed by the noise, Light sucks on the thumb between his lips in a stage play of what he wants. His tongue massages the pad, tasting every stray drop of coffee, every dash of sugar, collected over their shared day. Too soon, L takes his hand away from Light, who lets out a gash of sigh himself. Desire bleeds from him and drips onto L’s cock – the slow curve almost to Light’s eager lips.

“It’ll hurt you,” L says. “It won’t fit, and you’ll tear something.”

“I want it to.” Light inhales, the prickle of fantasized pain scurrying up his spine. “I want your cock to split me open.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” L says, his warning infected by want; he has desire oozing from him as well. His breath hitches when Light lowers his mouth to give an insolent little kiss to his cock tip. “Are you – are you that hungry for cock?”

The question smacks Light in the face. Oh, he is hungry – ravenous, in a way he’s never felt before. For a moment, he lets his kiss linger on the tip and tastes pre-cum, soap. Then he turns a warm gaze to L and nods. “I’m starving for your cock, L,” he whispers. “Please feed me your beautiful cock until I can’t take it anymore.”

L wraps a hand around the base of his shaft and, as Light opens his mouth wide, coaxes the head between white teeth, reddened lips. The first brush on his tongue sends Light’s eyes to the back of his head and he dips lower, taking in several inches before moving back. He licks in the foreskin – L must clean it meticulously, the way heady bitter soap notes cling to Light’s tongue – and bobs his mouth over whatever he can fit. Lower and lower, Light drops his mouth under L’s cock hits the back of his throat.

As he trembles under the weight in his mouth, Light’s own cock blazes with arousal, and he rocks into the sheets. Friction makes a fire burn in his belly. L caresses his hair, his face, the nape of his neck, while murmuring praise for how well Light is taking him in. Cheeks stained and heavy with a blush he can’t fight, Light melts under the repeated cooing – “What a skilled cocksucker you are. How wet your mouth is, soft and welcoming. Take it like that, yes. Perfect. Perfect, Light.” – and wriggles trying to please his own throbbing excitement. Finally, L grips the base of his skull and pushes Light forward, feeding him each and every nine inches until Light is gagging. Tears collect in his eyes. L has fever pitched across his expression and his lips fumble a warning.

“I’m,” he says, “I’m going to come.”

With his cock firm and filling Light to the brim, L fucks into Light’s waiting mouth twice before spilling cum down his throat. The pulsing overwhelms thought and reason as tears stream down Light’s cheeks. He humps the bed faster and faster and comes hard, warm and sticky in his briefs. His eyes flutter shut, and even as L slides his softening cock out, Light can’t think of anything except the cum coating his mouth, his throat. A moment passes before he speaks again; bliss overrides his mind and body.

“You liked that?” L’s question is tentative but a smirk hides under the tone.

“Mm-hm,” Light nods. “So good.”

“Did you come as well? From having my cock fuck your mouth?”

Light whines – the context sounds frightening outside the situation – but opens his eyes and stares at L through the film of tears. Aftershocks of pleasure wrack his body as he puts hands on either side of L’s hips, dragging himself into the other man’s space. Some cum he swallowed, but what traces are left he kisses into L’s lips, then onto his tongue when those lips part.

“Distracting me.” L hums as Light pulls back from the kiss. “I’m not a detective on luck alone, Light. I want an answer.” His thumb catches Light by the chin and holds it still, again. “Did your hungry body come from getting fucked by my cock?”

Light holds L’s gaze, though he doesn’t speak. Instead, he licks his lips and smiles.

“If you’re such a good detective,” he says, “then you’ll understand I can’t say anything without sufficient evidence.” A hand slides over Light’s back and cups his ass, fingers digging a groan out of him. “Ah, but I can think of a way to gather some more.”

L presses his hand flat across Light’s bottom and pulls him close. Damp fabric brushes naked cock as their crotches rub against each other. Moans trickle through Light and out his mouth, but his eyes lock on L’s, tracing the dark pupils in search of what comes next.

“Are you so desperate for me to hurt you?” L asks.

“No.” Light rocks his hips down. “That’s not it.”

“Ruin you then?”

“Wreck me.” Steel laces in with lust as Light grasps L by his face and hisses the words. “Wreck me with your perfect, beautiful cock, and I’ll tell you how much I love it.”

And when L obliges in his wreckage, Light does. He truly, achingly, happily screams his ruination.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment to lemme know how u liked the fic, and check me out on tumblr @translightyagami


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